Forever and For Always
by karp89
Summary: Canon up to Season 4 Finale, Santana's trying to find her dreams in New York and get over Brittany for good. Brittany's trying to start her real life now that high school is finally over, and get Santana back for good. Brittana, Unholy Trinity, Kurcheltana
1. Chapter 1

Rachel was sipping tea in her New York apartment when she heard a frantic rapping on her door. Confused, she got up to answer it, maybe Santana had forgotten her key. Santana still hadn't returned from her cage dancing shift last night. Rachel would have been worried, but around 2 AM she had sent her a text:

**Rachel: hey, getting a bit worried, at least let me know that you're safe**

Santana responded a few minutes later:

**Santana: don't worry Berry, I'm using protection ;)**

After that Rachel stopped worrying and mentally noted that they needed to re-hash the guidelines of the roommate overshare policy. The policy had been put into place when Kurt was sick of hearing about female-body-specific girl problems, Santana was sick of hearing about boy trouble, and when Rachel was sick of hearing about non-Rachel related issues. The policy had done much to prevent the three of them from getting on each other's nerves. They just had to say 'R.O.P' (pronounced rope) and the topic would be dropped. She went over to open the door, curious as to who their visitor could be. Kurt was on the couch watching a Golden Girls marathon and they weren't expecting any guests that morning. She slid open the loft door, revealing one Brittany S. Pierce.

"Brittany? What...what are you doing here?" Rachel was dumbfounded, last she had heard Brittany had moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts and enrolled at MIT under some extremely ridiculous circumstances. 'Wait, did Brittany even technically graduate from high school?' Rachel thought to herself.

"Hey Rachel!" said Brittany brightly, although there was underlying layer of nervousness,. She spoke again in a whisper,"Is Santana here? I was hoping to surprise her."

"Oh, no she's...she's not in... at the moment, but please come in," Rachel smiled, feeling incredibly, incredibly awkward. She was completely at a loss for the proper protocol in this type of social situation, so she called in Hummel. "Kurt!" she yelled over her shoulder, "You'll never guess who's at the door!" Rachel and Brittany stood next to each other sharing uncomfortable, polite smiles.

"Is it Rudy again?" Kurt called from behind the curtain, "Tell him we're not buying anymore perfumes. I can still smell 'Unguilty Desire' lingering in the apartment sometimes. I know you're on the hunt for your signature scent, but at what cost...", Kurt trailed off as he walked in and saw Brittany standing in the doorway. "Brittany! Oh, my god!" He moved over to the girls to embrace Brittany and as they hugged he shot Rachel a 'wtf is going on?' face. She responded by shaking her head and mouthing 'no clue.'

"Wow, look at you... what are you doing in New York? Not that we're not thrilled to have you..." Kurt said.

"Well, I have the week off, so I decided to take a trip to New York. It was kind of a snap decision, so I didn't plan much out. I was hoping we all could hang out, if you guys aren't too busy." Brittany explained.

"Well, Kurt and I have classes during the day, but Santana works nights, so between the three of us, we could show you a good time" Rachel said with a nod.

"That sounds good, do you know when Santana will be back? Maybe we could all go to Sunday brunch, or something." Brittany still didn't seem quite comfortable, and it was unsettling for Rachel and Kurt to see her so nervous and unsure of herself. In the past they hadn't always gotten where Brittany was coming from, but she had always given off a vibe of being decisively confident.

"Well, we're not sure when she'll be back. I think she said something about muffins..." Rachel said (Kurt stifled a snort), "How about I make you some tea and we can all catch up and wait for her to return?"

"That would be great, it was a pretty tiring trip here. I took the cheapest bus to New York and my seatmate was a live, caged chicken. Which I thought was weird because everyone's so into cage-free in Massachusetts." Rachel just nodded and motioned for Brittany to sit down.

As they got to talking, things got more comfortable and Brittany lost all trace of nervousness. Kurt and Rachel could not stop laughing at Brittany's ridiculous tales from Lima and Brittany loved hearing about their New York adventures. It was one of those reunions where warm nostalgia for the familiar overpowered whatever annoyances and dislikes they had had for each other in high school. The sound of the loft door scraping open interrupted their easy conversation as they all turned their heads to look. Santana had returned.

Unfortunately for Britt, it was clear Santana had just come home from being out all night. She was still in her cage-dancing Barbarella uniform; her stage makeup was visibly smudged; and if Rudy created a perfume of her scent, it would be called 'Tequila'. Santana still hadn't noticed the three of them and called over her shoulder as she was pulling the door shut, "Prepare yourselves Hummelberry, I got a story to tell." Her back was facing them as she pulled off her go-go boots, but the smirk on her face was evident from her tone. Santana finally turned around to face them, and she immediately locked eyes with Brittany. She just stood there stalk still, and all of her smug bravado had melted away. Her face showed hints of emotions: a mix of quiet happiness and an underlying hurt. Her mouth curved into a small smile, "Brittany."


	2. Chapter 2

Brittany got up from her seat and stood awkwardly, unsure where she stood in Santana's life. It had been a month since they last saw each other and communication between the two of them had been almost completely non-existent. It's not like Brittany hadn't wanted to talk to Santana. She thought about it constantly. Her phone was stuffed with drafts of text messages, all of them were deemed too inadequate for what she needed to say*. In her final speech to the glee club she gave everyone a final summation of her feelings for them. She thanked them for the joys they had brought her and tried to convey the love she felt for them. Even if they were a crazy, inconsistent bunch, each trapped in their own multitude of love triangles, they were her family. Brittany saved Santana for last, because you save the best for last, that and the fact that she had no fucking clue what to say. Her relationships with everyone else were easy to categorize, assess and let go of. She wasn't a fool, she was entering a new phase of life and she had to say goodbye to her past in order to embrace the future. There lay the problem, she didn't want to say goodbye to Santana. She would never have said goodbye in the first place, if it had been up to her. Luckily, Santana didn't make her say anything, and instead Brittany tried to infuse their last hug with every feeling she had for her. As if Santana could learn how she truly felt through osmosis.

Brittany found herself at a loss for words once again, so she went with, "Hey."

Santana chuckled, "Hey yourself, now get over here and give me a hug, Britt," and she motioned for her to come over. With that Brittany ran over and leaped into Santana's arms, "I've missed you so much" she said with a sniffle. It was amazing how at home Brittany could feel, in a place she had never been, just because she was in Santana's arms.

After a few minutes, Kurt cleared his throat, "Well, Rachel and I are still here, if you'd like to end the world's longest reunion hug of all time, and join us for brunch."

Santana broke the hug and smiled at Brittany before announcing that she was in desperate need of a shower and change of clothes. She left the room and Brittany was a bit disappointed in their brief encounter. She needed more alone time with Santana, to finally clear the air. Rachel, however, felt Brittany needed more alone time with her in order to dish. Once the shower was on, Rachel spoke, "Okay Brittany, you have to tell us what's going on. What happened between the two of you in Lima? Santana refused to talk about it, despite our quickly blossoming friendship. I feel we've developed an Anita/Maria-esque relationship, with my role of course being Maria, the female lead." In that moment Brittany quickly remembered her hatred of Rachel. Kurt appeared more standoffish now. He looked interested, but not quite as excited as Rachel. His arms were crossed and his expression was unreadable. Clearly he knew more about Santana's final trip to Lima than Rachel.

"Um, nothing really happened" Lie. "We caught up for a bit, but we didn't really see each other too much" Lie. "Anyways, I love that outfit" Lie. "Where did you get it?" Rachel was disappointed in the lack of detail, but was sufficiently distracted by the opportunity to talk about herself. Brittany quickly tuned her out after she described the inspiration for the outfit as a"pre-Arnstein Fanny Brice." Her thoughts drifted back to Santana and how they had left things.

Lima, OH: Breadsticks - Schuester/Pillsbury Wedding Reception (1 month ago)

Mr. Schuester had managed to integrate the glee club with all of his relationship milestones. His engagement, his marriage. Brittany wondered if he'd go for the hat trick and invite them all to his honeymoon. Maybe it would have a 'Glee goes to Hawaii!' theme. She was sitting next to Sugar, debating whether to go over to Santana, who was dancing with Kurt, and cut in. They were really half-dancing, half-goofing off. Kurt kept making Santana twirl him and Santana was trying to teach him her special snap/shuffle dance. Brittany had to admit they looked cute together, in an extremely platonic gay man/lesbian friendship way. The cuteness was mostly brought by Santana and her smile dimples.

"You're staring again, you realize" Sugar's voice cut Brittany out her reverie.

"What? Well you're staring at me if you noticed, so who's the real creep?"

"You are. Seriously, you two need to get things together, it's just not right with you guys apart. You're messing with the space time continuum and I don't appreciate it, to be honest."

With that, Sugar got up and left. Brittany sensed that she was missing something, and realized that this is probably how people usually felt after talking to her. Well, people besides Santana. Santana always got it, she got Brittany because she knew Brittany through and through. Santana understood the layers beneath Brittany's thought process. There was much more to her statements than just their face value, and not many people could decipher their full meaning. Brittany suddenly felt immeasurably alone at her table. Once, Santana and she had been as thick as thieves, now she's lucky if they share quick glances from separate church pews.

Brittany tried to find Santana on the dance floor again, but she was gone. Frowning, she stood up and looked around, trying to locate Lopez. She froze when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

It was Sam. She kept frowning.

"Hey Brittany, just wanted to congratulate you on MIT," He said with a smile, "I just found out I won't be graduating this year."

"Wow, I'm really sorry to hear that. I'm sure you will do it next year. Just focus on your academics."

"Thanks, I guess I'll be following in your footsteps" He said, trying to keep things light. Although it kind of brought something to Brittany's attention. Not only did they appear to be Hitler's dream couple, but Sam slowly had morphed into a male version of the person people incorrectly thought she was.

"Sam, about the..."

"Hey, it's all right. I get it. I just hope we can stay friends."

"That'd be nice" Brittany said, knowing that it was an empty promise for both of them. Sam wished Brittany luck and excused himself.

Brittany spent the next 20 minutes looking for Santana. After a while it was clear she'd left the party. So, Brittany said her goodbyes and left Breadsticks. She wasn't going to let Santana just leave this time. Not now that they were both free from the confines of WMHS. Not now that she was free to live her life, instead of being told she wasn't ready and needed an extra year to prepare for it. Brittany was finally not so stuck.

*A sampling of drafts from BSP's phone:

"Hey, how's it going? ...it's your soulmate, Brittany, btw"

"Would it be weird if I moved to the New York loft? it seems like a magical place where all the successful glee alum can live and sing in harmony"

"I just realized I haven't seen you in 22 days. Sometimes I can't believe this is reality, and not some messed up alternate universe."

"Question: does your apartment have a magical Narnia wardrobe to Lima?"

"I miss you"

"How bout them Red Sox?"


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, thanks for reading! Any feedback is very much appreciated :)

LIMA, OH (1 month ago)

Brittany had carpooled with Sugar to Breadsticks and was forced to walk to Santana's house. Santana had a flight back to New York tomorrow, so this was her last shot. The last time they'd be in the same state in the foreseeable future. It took an hour to walk to Santana's house from Breadsticks. Brittany knew the route well. She'd walked it almost every week with Santana during their Sophomore year, before they had gotten their drivers' licenses. Breadsticks days were the best days. Santana would get inexplicably excited for the endless bread sticks and Brittany would get infected by her enthusiasm. Brittany thought the food was good, but the best part was having one on one time with Santana. Her bitchy facade faded away once they were away from high school. Don't get Brittany wrong, she knew Santana was a bitch, it was one her most entertaining qualities, but at school Santana was only a bitch. It was her chosen personality trait. In high school you got one, identifying trait, and you had to use it to accrue as much popularity as possible. 'The bitch' was a useful archetype for Santana's purposes. It kept her on top, it kept people from getting close to her, and it kept her secrets safe. Brittany played 'the dumb blonde,' she found it kept her from being held accountable for her actions, but it also caused people to think she was incompetent. The largest problem with this high school survival technique was that you tend to become who you pretended to be. For Brittany that meant becoming a super Senior, which was never part of her plan.

The long walk gave Brittany time to mentally prepare her speech. She knew the fact still remained that she and Santana still weren't going to be living in the same state. At least they were closing the distance gap. She still wasn't sure what she was expecting to achieve with this final confrontation, she just knew she had to see Santana once more.

It started raining when she had passed the 'Now Entering Lima Heights Adjacent' sign, she was about 10 minutes from the Lopez residence. 'Great,' thought Brittany, 'Well, this could be a good sign or bad" On the one hand, heavy rain always accompanied successful romantic pronouncements in the movies, on the other hand, Brittany lived in reality (most of the time). She took off her heels and sprinted full speed the rest of the way. She rapped urgently on the door and Santana answered almost immediately.

"Brittany!? What are you...Come in, come in," Santana pulled her out of the rain and into the house.

There she was, drenched to the bone in the Lopez foyer. Hair pasted to her face, out of breath, and mascara running down her cheeks. So much for winning Santana back with sex appeal.

"Here, let's get you some dry clothes, do you want to take a quick shower?" Santana asked.

"Oh no I'm fine," Brittany said while dripping on the carpet, "actually, some clothes would be nice."

She followed Santana up to her room, and watched as she ruffled through her packed suitcase. The rest of Santana's bedroom was bare. Her parents had converted it into a guest room, after she'd moved out. It felt too clean and foreign for a room Brittany had spent the majority of her high school days in. Santana gave Brittany some sweatpants and one of Brittany's old dance t-shirts.

"Here, you can change in the bathroom, There are some warm towels in there," Santana said, motioning to the bathroom door.

"You still have this?" Brittany said, holding up the shirt which read 'Dance your [picture of a donkey] off.'

"well...It's a comfy shirt" Santana said lamely.

"well... I like that you still have it" Brittany said smiling.

"I guess its yours again" Santana said, clearly attempting to sound breezy.

Brittany went into the bathroom to change, secretly elated that a piece of her was still with Santana. Lately it felt like the only trace of their relationship was a picture of the two of them on her night stand. She felt disappointed in the rain. There was no 'Notebook' moment, and it forced her to take back Santana's last remnant of their past closeness. She sighed and pulled the t-shirt on, delightfully surprised that it smelled like vanilla and strawberries. In other words it smelled like Santana. That rain was a tricky bitch.

* * *

New York (Present Day)

After Santana showered, changed, and got the lowdown on Brittany's sudden appearance, they headed out for brunch. It was one of those classic New York Sundays. The weather was gorgeous, the people were pushy, and the food was delicious. Despite not being around each other for months Brittany and Santana resumed their normal brunch behavior. Santana got the savory dish, Brittany got the sweet one, and they took bites off of each other's plates like it was a normal thing to do. Logistically, it would have been awkward, if they weren't so well-practiced in the art of sharing meals. Kurt and Rachel were a little taken aback, as Santana hadn't so much as split a Kit-Kat bar with either of them.

"So as you may know from the monthly Glee newsletter, I have been cast as an understudy in Funny Girl" stated Rachel.

"Wait, there's a newsletter?" Brittany questioned, glancing at Santana for confirmation.

"Check your Spam folder," said Santana, and she added in a whisper, "Remember the Berry filter?" Brittany smirked, the Berry filter had been initiated Junior year when Rachel had somehow come into possession of everyone's emails, and blasted their inboxes with Glee updates and karaoke party invites.

"Thank god for Lord Tubbington's computer prowess, although I did always miss the annual Blackberry picking festival after that..." muttered Brittany, earning a laugh from Santana.

"Anyway.." Rachel continued, "I'm thinking of employing the method acting method. Thoughts?"

"I'm sorry, haven't you already been playing the role of pushy Jewish girl with the large beak full of dreams and disappointing leading man for the past 18 years?" Santana snarked.

"That is true," Kurt piled on, "where exactly will we see the change?"

"Hmm, that is quite interesting," said Rachel, choosing to entirely ignore Kurt and Santana's teasing tone. "perhaps my entire psyche has been developed in preparation for this role..."

Brittany's new favorite activity was tuning out Rachel and stealing glances at Santana. She looked amazing, not that she hadn't always been gorgeous, but there was something different about her that made her glow with new life. Her eyes shined brighter and her laugh was carefree and easy. She had lost her calculated high school personality and was more free to be herself in public than Brittany had ever seen her. It was clear Santana had found the place she belonged.

After brunch they went for a walk around the city. Kurt and Rachel led the way, and Brittany and Santana lagged behind.

"So, Britt," Santana began, "Why are you really here? I know New York is a great travel destination, but MIT doesn't have its spring break until next month. Is everything okay?"

"No, everything's...wait why do you know when MIT has spring break?" Brittany asked.

"Um, don't change the subject," Santana answered, although a small blush crept onto her face and she glanced away.

"Alright, everything's not so great. I feel like a lab rat at MIT. They gave me full enrollment as long as I go in for tests three times a week."

"What? are they like performing experiments on you?" Santana asked, visibly alarmed.

"No, no, it's not like that. It's more like I go in and they hand me a sheet of equations, and study how I interact with the numbers," Brittany explained.

"Oh, well if you need me to, I am fully prepared to go all Lima Heights on their asses. Just because I live with Mr. and Mrs. Broadway over there, doesn't mean I stopped putting razor blades in my hair" Santana said jokingly, "So why visit New York?"

Brittany wanted to respond with, 'because that's where you are', but there actually was another reason.

"I've been sending some of my sample dance tapes to a few performing arts schools, trying to get interest, and I've gotten a few responses from schools here in New York. It's just preliminary stuff, nothing definite"

"Britt that's fantastic! Of course they'd want you. Do you want to dance professionally?" Santana asked. Brittany smiled, Santana still believed in her abilities without question.

"I'm still figuring it all out. I also sent out some copies of 'The best of Fondue for Two.' I was thinking I might go into film instead," Brittany explained. She still wasn't sure of what she wanted to do with her life, but she knew who she wanted to do it with.

"Well I'm sure you'll be amazing at whatever you choose," Santana said with genuine confidence, "How about tomorrow I'll show you around a few campuses? I've got the whole day off."

"That sounds perfect" Brittany replied.

Brittany was glad she and Santana could slip into an easy friendship rhythm now, but it seemed like Santana was holding back. Brittany felt as though she was being kept at a safe distance. Santana was doing her best to firmly hold Brittany in the friend zone, and Brittany desperately wanted more.


	4. Chapter 4

LIMA, OH (1 month ago)

"So, are you all ready to go back to New York?" asked Brittany, returning from changing in the bathroom.

"Brittany, why are you here?" Santana asked tiredly, ignoring her question.

"At your house, or in the larger sense? Because I've been watching a lot of apocalypse documentaries lately, and I'm beginning to think no one has the answer to that question. Although one guy from Indiana was pretty convinced we were born to appease our lizard ultra lord..." Brittany trailed off.

"Here, in my house," answered Santana, trying to frown and suppressing a smile.

Brittany swallowed and prepared her monologue, "I just needed to see you. I needed to be near you. This is the last time we'll be in the same room for who knows how long. I miss you Santana. I miss you every day. Whenever Glee club is doing something ridiculous I want to not-so-secretly judge them with you. Whenever I have a pack of Swedish fish, I want to share them with you. I miss making you laugh, I miss your snarky comments, and I miss being your best friend. Not just having the title, but actually _being_ your best friend. I want to know how exactly how you feel because we talk about everything for hours, I want to be there for you when things get rough, I want to have a million inside jokes no one gets but us, I want to be the person you're closest to again."

"Why are you doing this? I'm going back to New York in 12 hours and you're on your way to Massachusetts. We're living two separate lives now. Besides it's pretty clear that you've moved on, and rather painlessly." Santana added, crossing her arms.

"I'm doing this because we belong together." said Brittany simply and earnestly.

"Well, that's too easy." said Santana.

"What? What do you mean?" asked Brittany.

"People don't just belong together, Brittany. I don't believe in that. You have to work at it. Two people build a relationship shit happens they have to either muck through it or break up. And sometimes it's the better thing to break up. It shows how deep their devotion really was. They can find out that their feelings for the other person are more important than the circumstances of their split. But sometimes it just shows that they're better off with other people. There's no magical 'perfect match' that can recover from any obstacle. Sometimes it doesn't work out, people fuck things up too much, and you can't go back." said Santana. Brittany was completely devastated by what she heard.

"But.. you broke up with me!" exclaimed Brittany, "I wanted to muck through it. I wanted it to work."

"I know, and yet, I'm still the one getting hurt. Every single time I see you," said Santana, "I'll always want you in my life Brittany, but the wound is still too fresh for me. I'm not as resilient as you."

"Santana I know it seems like..." Brittany started, but was interrupted by yelling coming from the stairs.

"Santanita! I bought churros! How was the-" Maribel Lopez stopped short as she reached Santana's bedroom doorway and saw Brittany.

"Hey Mama, Brittany was just leaving." Santana explained, "Come on Britt, I'll drive you home. It's still pouring out."  
Brittany wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear at the glare she got from Santana's mother. It was a mixture of disappointment, anger and protectiveness. It was bewildering, Maribel had always been very warm and accepting when it came to Brittany. She was a tough woman, but very fair.

"Thanks Santana, I really appreciate it. Great to see you Ma- Mrs. Lopez," Brittany said, completely aware of how uncomfortable she sounded. She used to call Maribel "Mama Lopez", but she felt very much like a stranger in the woman's house now.

The car ride was mostly silent. Brittany had a million things she wanted to say, but her mind was blank. She decided to fiddle with the radio, unable to take the silence for much longer. That turned out to be a large mistake.

The first song to come on was Melissa Etheridge's "Come to My Window." Brittany's eyes bugged out of her head, completely bewildered. 'How is that even statistically possible?' she thought, 'Now what? I can't change it immediately, that would be even worse. Do we just sit here?' She looked to Santana, who had her eyes fixed to the road, clearly trying not to have a reaction. After "I need you in my blood I am forsaking all the rest" Brittany had to switch stations. It had gone from uncomfortable to downright painful. She hit the 'scan' button and prayed for a light pop song about lip gloss or something equally non-emotionally charged. The scanner, however, had a different idea in mind. After skipping over a few fuzzy stations, it landed on Mumford & Sons' "White Blank Page." Brittany had never heard the song before, so she let it play. Santana couldn't change the station since she was driving. After Quinn's accident the three of them had made a pact to never be distracted while driving. No texting, no phone calls, no switching the radio station. Nothing was more important than everyone's safety.

Brittany began really listening to the lyrics of the song and found herself haunted by the words. It was about the pain of loving someone completely, despite anything they may do, and having them be oblivious to everything you felt for them. She could feel Santana's soul within the song. She would have listened to it in it's entirety, but she glanced over and saw Santana wipe her eyes with her sleeve as she sniffled once, sharply. Brittany immediately hit the scanner button. Seeing Santana fully break down was the worst thing Brittany had ever experienced. It had happened three times before. Once in the girl's bathroom after she ran out of the auditorium after slapping Finn across the face, once when she called Brittany after being dragged out of her Abuela's house, and once when Brittany was about to leave after moving Santana into her dorm in Louisville. Brittany didn't ever want there to be a fourth time.

They were stopped at a red light now, both of their eyes were glued to the radio, waiting to see what fresh hell the scanner would bring them. "Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!" by the Vengaboys came blasting through the speakers. They both looked up at each other, and burst out laughing. Brittany laughed so hard her abs ached and mirthful tears ran down her face. Santana was doing her full on scrunch face laugh, all traces of previous angst were gone. They only stopped when the car behind them beeped loudly, because the light had been green for a while.

"Do you remember when Quinn put that song on the 'Tunes to avoid while on a Date" Chastity club list?" Santana asked, smirking.

"I think I had a playlist made of songs exclusively from that list," said Brittany, "We definitely listened to it enough times."

Santana smiled but didn't respond as she pulled into the Pierce driveway.

"Here," Santana said, "Let me walk you to your doorstep. It's still coming down pretty hard."

"Thank you" Brittany said and Santana exited the car with the umbrella, crossed to the other side, and opened the passenger's car door for Brittany. Santana may be rude and sarcastic and biting to the general public. But when it came to people that meant something to her, she was the most caring and attentive person Brittany knew. People usually categorized her thoughtfulness as her being whipped.

They both huddled under Santana's black umbrella as they made their way to front stoop and Brittany relished their physical proximity.

"Would you like to come in? I have a '5th year's the charm' graduation cake that needs to be eaten." Brittany asked as they reached the front door.

"No, that's alright. I should get back," Santana said.

"So I guess this is it then," said Brittany. knowing she should seize this final moment, but not really clear on how to do so.

"Yep," agreed Santana.

They both stood there under the umbrella, looking at each other. It felt as if they were coming back from a first date and were both unsure of how to end the evening.

Her words hadn't been particularly successful this evening, so Brittany decided to go with a form of communication that almost always yielded positive results: Sweet Lady Kisses. Her eyes flickered from Santana's eyes down to her lips and back up again. Then, she leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. After a moment of hesitation, Santana kissed back, letting the umbrella fall at their feet. They were getting soaked by the rain, but Brittany wouldn't have noticed if she was being struck by lighting. She was finally kissing Santana again, after months. And we're talking full on make out, not just a peck in the auditorium. She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Santana, pulling her in closer. But Santana suddenly pushed her away, shaking her head.

"I can't, Britt" she said, her expression was pained, "I- I should go."

"No, it's my fault, I'm sorry. Why don't you just come in for a bit?" Brittany asked, "I promise I won't try anything" she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, I really need to get back home" Santana said, nodding, as though she was trying to convince herself.

"Santana, you should know that-" Brittany began, but Santana interrupted her, "I's okay Britt, you don't have to say anything," repeating her words from before.  
It suddenly dawned on Brittany that maybe Santana didn't want to hear what she had to say. Not because she knew what the words would be, but because if she heard them she wouldn't be able to move on and start her life in New York, free from the past. So, Brittany let Santana go.


	5. Chapter 5

NEW YORK (Present Day)

"So, Brittany" said Rachel, "Will you be staying the full week?"

"I would like to, if it's alright. I'm sorry for just randomly appearing on your doorstep." said Brittany.

"Oh don't worry about it. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time we had an expected guest..." Rachel said, mentally going through their list of previous visitors. 'I wonder why no one calls in advance, and why we keep answering the door if we don't know who's on the other side. It's just not safe practice' thought Rachel.

"Anyway," Rachel continued, "It's actually perfect timing, I just invited Quinn up for this coming weekend."

Santana choked on the water she was drinking. This did not go unnoticed by Brittany.

"Quinn's coming?" asked Santana, trying to sound casual.

"Yes, she'll be here this Friday," answered Rachel.

"Shit," thought Santana. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

NEW YORK (3 weeks ago)

Quinn: Hey I'm going to be New York for a weekend, could I stay at your place?

Santana: Sure, I'll tell Berry, she'll be thrilled

Quinn: Good, because I need to talk to you. It's important

Santana was thrown by the text. They need to talk? They had left things friendly after their one night stand. They ordered room service, swapped the glee gossip (staying away from any topics involving Brittany), and drove back from the hotel together. It was clear that neither of them wanted to pursue anything further with the other, sexually or romantically. But now Quinn "needed to talk" and about "something important"? Santana was sufficiently worried. Before the text, she had never even considered the possibility that Quinn might come out as a lesbian. Santana had grown to accept that Quinn had a mild form of multiple personality disorder. She tried on different personalities like hats. So far she had tried on head cheerleader, punk, MILF, cheater, baby snatcher, God Squadette, Yale Yuppie, and experimental college girl. Most people tried to find themselves slowly, joining new clubs or pursuing a few interests. Quinn, ever the overachiever, took on an entirely new persona. Santana didn't blame her. She'd learned enough about the Fabray household to know that Quinn was probably as sane as possible, given the circumstances.

Quinn arrived Friday afternoon and Santana went to the train station to meet her. She was a little trepidation given Quinn's ambiguous text, but excited to see her nonetheless.

"Lucifer"

"Satan"

They smiled and hugged each other as passersby looked perplexed by their terms of endearment.  
"So, should we drop off your stuff and get lunch?" asked Santana, "I know a place that has the best BLT in the city."  
Quinn's eyes lit up, "How fast can we get there?"

"Yes, can I have the BLT with extra bacon?" asked Quinn, "and also a side of bacon...How many strips does that come with?"

"Four" answered the waitress.

"Make that a double side" said Quinn.

Santana stared at her with a look of disgusted mortification.

"What?" asked Quinn, completely oblivious.

"I'll have the Cobb salad." said Santana looking up at the waitress, who scribbled down the orders and went back to the kitchen.

"Okay, so I have something I need to talk to you about," said Quinn, "I feel like you're the only one who can really understand what I'm going through."

"Holy shit," thought Santana, "Is she coming out?"

"I'm thinking of transferring out of Yale." said Quinn.

"Oh thank god," said Santana, visibly relieved.

"What? What did you think I was going to say?" asked Quinn.

"Honestly Q, I thought you were going to ask to make it a three-time-thing."

"You should be so lucky," said Quinn with a smirk, "I've decided to focus on my career now. No more relationship drama this year."

"So, what are you going to do if you leave Yale?"

"Well, I applied for a transfer to Columbia in January. I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure if anything would come of it. But I got my acceptance letter last week. I could start classes here in New York in the fall."

"Quinn that's incredible. You should do it. Moving to New York has been the best decision I've made since graduation. My only regret is that I didn't come straight here and skip Louisville all do you want to leave?"

"I thought I was into the elite, preppy scene, but it's not who I want to be anymore. Although, I did feel pretty at home in New Haven due to the plethora of all-male gay acapella groups. I just don't feel like I've truly ventured into the real world, just graduated from the wading pool to the little end."

"Well it doesn't get much realer than seeing a tranny dressed as Kim Kardashian publicly urinate in a subway station." said Santana.

"Gross"

After lunch, Quinn and Santana went window shopping around the city.

"So, about Valentine's Day, " said Quinn, "Have you told Brittany yet?"

"No, and I didn't really plan on it." said Santana, "I haven't spoken to her since Lima, and how would that conversation even go? Hey Britt, it's your ex-girlfriend calling to tell you that I slept with our mutual best friend on Valentine's Day while you were dancing the night away with my, and said mutual best friend's, ex-boyfriend. That'll go well." Hearing about the decay of Santana and Brittany's relationship struck something in Quinn. She remembered when one of them couldn't be seen without the other by her side.

"Santana, we have to tell her. I don't want a huge secret ruining our friendship. It's always been the three of us, ever since freshman year. I know we've put each other through a lot of shit, but we've also always been for each other when it really counted. You two are my family, my only real family. And I can't stand to lose either of you. How about this, it wouldn't be good to ambush her with this information over a phone call, so how about the next time the three of us are together in person, we tell her." said Quinn.

Santana thought for a moment, weighing the odds of the three of them ever being together at the same time again. After deciding she could skip any and all of the inevitable glee club reunions, she said "Deal."


	6. Chapter 6

Santana and Brittany spent Monday scoping out performance arts schools. During their fifth campus tour, Santana was getting restless.

"Let's just go" she whispered to Brittany, "This guy could not be more of a condescending prick."

"We can't leave" Brittany whispered back, "There's like 5 people on this tour. It'll be so obvious."

"Exactly, the world's most boring man alive should get that no one cares about what year the school changed its colors from periwinkle to harvest wheat. Are those even colors? Like, where _are_ we?"

"And if you follow me, we'll continue on to our iconic coat check room, where you can admire the recent renovations," the tour guide said excitedly.

"Okay, fine. You're right, what's our exit strategy?" asked Brittany.

"Well, false labor is out, where's Quinn when you need her... Can you still faint on cue? Actually, this brick walkway is pretty unforgiving. I'm not above just hightailing it out of here."

Brittany nodded once in agreement. Santana took her hand and they full on sprinted across the courtyard, leaving the tour guide and their fellow tourmates in confusion. Laughing and running hand in hand, they both felt like their sophomore selves. Santana spotted an open doorway, and led Brittany inside.

They had stumbled into the university's theatre, and it was breathtaking. It was the kind of building where you could sense its history around you. Santana noted it looked a bit like the opera house in 'Phantom of the Opera.' The only reason she had even seen that movie was because of Kurt and Rachel. They took it upon themselves to introduce Santana to all of the "Best of Broadway", despite her ardent refusal. They believed it was a crime that a performer could be so un-knowledgeable about musicals (Rachel had added that it was 'borderline irresponsible' for Santana, as a gay, to know so little about theater, to which Santana rolled her eyes).

"Wow," said Brittany, taking in the theatre, "This place is amazing." After a pause, she continued, "This is it. This is what I want to do."

"Really? Theater? Well, Kurt and Rachel will be thrilled to have another playbill thumper around." answered Santana, a little confused at Brittany's sudden interest.

"Not theater. It's just...Can you imagine everything that's happened in here? Curtain calls, backstage dramas, standing ovations, failed auditions, career-defining moments. Think of all the stories this place holds. I want to do that. I want to tell people's stories, I'm not sure on the outlet yet, but I want to get people's stories out there. Their real stories, not just their biography. The little nuances and moments of their lives that shaped them and molded them. Fondue for Two...Journalism... it's all been about peeling people's onions, getting the real story behind their social skins. What I love most about dance is the way I can convey human emotion through movement. So this is it. This is what I'm supposed to do. I can feel it. If there's one thing I understand, it's people...and higher math equations." replied Brittany.

"That actually sounds... kind of perfect, Britt," said Santana smiling. Brittany always saw straight through to the truth behind people's front of bluster and BS. It was how she had initially gotten so close to Santana. "So I guess you'll be applying here?"

"Hell no," said Brittany, "Any school that admitted that tour guide, clearly isn't the place to learn how to tell a compelling story."

"And here I thought you liked Snores McBoring," quipped Santana, "You were all about those ceramic cat figurines the McGovern's donated to East Hall," she said in her best impression of the tour guide.

Brittany rolled her eyes, "It was one figurine and I only asked about it because I thought she looked Tubbington-esqe. You know he's sensitive about his orphan past, he's always on ancestor-dot-com"

They walked out of the theater and returned to the apartment. Brittany, and secretly Santana, had an amazing time that day, because they could ignore the crap the last six months had brought to their relationship and just enjoy being alone in each other's company, at least for a little bit.

* * *

New York Loft

Santana had left for work, so Brittany ate a late dinner with Kurt and Rachel. They were having Rachel's special vegan lasagna, which Brittany thought tasted like unhappiness, if unhappiness had a flavor. During dinner, Brittany told them about the great day she'd had with Santana, looking at potential schools and planning her new life in New York. She couldn't hold back her enthusiasm for moving to New York and finally being close to Santana again. Rachel couldn't be more thrilled, and insisted on giving Brittany a 'Broadway insider's' tour of the city on her next day off. Kurt, on the other hand, looked relatively unimpressed and somewhat annoyed. He was mostly quiet throughout dinner, and when he did speak to Brittany, there was an unkind edge to his words. Rachel noticed the shift from his usually pleasant demeanor and asked if something had happened at NYADA. He dismissed her questions and excused himself from the table.

Brittany followed Kurt into his curtain-sectioned-off bedroom.

"Okay, Hummel, what is going on?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," said Kurt, crossing his arms.

"You've been throwing more shade at me than Lord Tubbington in direct sunlight, what did I do to offend you?"

"Fine, I know what you're doing Brittany and frankly I don't respect it. Santana is finally moving on, after about a million false starts, and you're just swooping in and shitting all over it."

"I think you're confusing me with that pigeon from the balcony, we do both have a quirky sensibility."

"Be serious Britt. Santana needs time to heal. You hurt her. A lot. She heard about your end-of-the-world nuptials, thanks to Cohen-Chang, and she definitely did a lot of angry lesbian journaling after that update. I know she's the one who ended things, but it seems like you weren't too bothered by it. You just moved right on to your next relationship. No muss, no fuss. You can't just come and try to get her back when its convenient for you. You're messing with her head. Santana is different than you, she can't just turn her feelings for someone on and off like a light switch. You can't tell me that if you were suddenly living closer to Sam or Artie, that you wouldn't be pulling the same 'I want you back' schtick with one of them."

"Is that what you think of me? ...Is that what she thinks?"

"I can't speak for Santana, but from where I'm standing, she's better off without your fickle heart."

"It's not like that Kurt. I am_ not_ fickle. How dare you. Do you know what spurred our break-up? A glance in a library, from some predatory Virginia-Woolf-reading lesbian. Santana was attracted to someone besides me and then she freaked the fuck out. That was first time she'd ever seen another girl who would actually be romantically compatible with her. She comes back to Lima, realizes I can't stand being left without her, and breaks up with me because we can't be there for each other anymore. I went insane for a month; wondering if we only had what we had because I was the only choice available. Maybe Santana just needed someone to love, and by default it was me. I still don't know which would have hurt worse, breaking up the way we did, or staying together and not being able to actually _be_ together. Either way it freaking sucks. And I _did_ try to get back together, when she came back for Grease, but she shot me down. Even after telling me the only reason she was there was to see me. So I know what it feels like to be jerked around. I am so sick of people acting like this was my dream scenario. I didn't want any of this. Santana dumps me, then rejects me, and I'm still the girl who's not devoted enough. How the fuck is that logical?"

"Brittany, I didn't..."

"I was alone, Kurt. A Lima loser. The one who didn't make it out. Santana didn't want to be with me. I was still in high school, going to school everyday was just a never ending reminder of my failure. I was sad. Really, truly, and painfully sad. One day I just decided I couldn't be sad anymore. I'm not built for it. So I decided to act the way a happy girl trying to make the most of her Senior year would act. Fake it 'till I made it. And I hoped that would translate into me feeling better. Really all it did was allow me shove my feelings away and survive my second senior year. But I did what I needed to do to survive, Kurt, if that means being judged as a fickle idiot who thinks the world is ending every five seconds, so be it. But don't think for one second that that means I stopped loving Santana. She's the only person I'll ever be in love with. I have enjoyed dating other people, whom I do love _as people_, but she's it for me. We belong together."

"Wow, Britt, I'm sorry. I really hope things work out..."

"Hey, hey, don't be sad, Kurt. C'mere" Brittany held her hands out to hug him as he teared up.

"No, I'm fine...just got a little something in my eye.. " said Kurt as they hugged.

"And I'm sure that your guy isn't as fickle as you fear he is."

"Thanks Britt."

"Remember when we were dating? It was such a simpler time" Brittany said, mock-wistfully. Kurt chuckled.

Neither of them noticed Santana, having returned just from work, standing behind the curtain, listening intently.


	7. Chapter 7: Pt 1

Friday came quickly. Too quickly, for both Brittany and Santana, although for very different reasons.

Brittany never wanted the week to end. She loved the city and was convinced now more than ever that this is where she belonged. She spent the majority of the rest of the week on her own; exploring New York and working on applications to different schools. Kurt and Rachel were very busy with midterms and Santana was working three different jobs, going on auditions, and taking dance classes. Brittany was pretty amazed by her work ethic, it was a useful side effect from the insane Cheerios practice schedule. Brittany had also gotten accustomed to living the loft life. It was a big change from her parent's house. The sense of freedom and self responsibility was wonderful. She also enjoyed the routine. After everyone got back from work/school, they would all have dinner, then watch TV Land together on the couch until Santana left to work the night shift. It was a comfortable and easy atmosphere. Brittany couldn't stand the thought of leaving. Especially now that she and Santana were just starting to rebuild their friendship.

Santana didn't want the week to end either, because the week ending meant Friday was going to happen. Quinn was coming and Brittany was going to find out. It wasn't that Santana felt guilty or ashamed of what happened between her and Quinn, she just had no idea how Brittany would react. This kind of news was unprecedented. Santana only had eyes for Brittany throughout high school, and Brittany knew it. The fact that her romantic rival was Quinn made it a thousand times worse. Santana mostly feared the potential dynamic shift of the threesome. She had already lost a great love this year, she didn't think she could handle any more of her relationships dissolving.

After overhearing Brittany's confrontation with Kurt, Santana had been equally more friendly towards Brittany, and less available to spend time alone with her. It wasn't entirely on purpose, but Santana could have picked up fewer shifts this week. Brittany's confession should have made Santana feel happier and justified that their relationship wasn't as easily replaceable as it would seem, but Santana just felt more conflicted and confused. She was trying to start a new life and launch her career. It had been simpler to seal the past away and focus on her future. Now it was all in the present and things were getting messy.

* * *

FRIDAY

Kurt, Brittany, and Santana were heavily engrossed in a 'Murder, She Wrote' episode when Quinn and Rachel arrived. They had gone shopping before arriving at the loft, and Rachel had returned with the fugliest purse in creation. There were feathers, glitter, and faux fur involved. Rachel described it as Native American chic.

"Still sabotaging the hobbit, I see," Santana whispered to Quinn.

"I tried to talk her out of it..." Quinn whispered back.

After showing everyone the different facets and functionalities of her new bag, Rachel said, "Well I'd love to continue this, but Kurt and I have to head out, we have 'Broadway Divas: from Channing to Chenoweth' at six."

"History requirement, explained Kurt, responding to the confused expressions on Brittany's and Quinn's faces.

"What? Why don't you guys just stay? Come on! It's just like old times," said Santana, pleading with them. Now Kurt and Rachel were the confused ones. One: Santana had never solicited their company, and two: it was decidedly nothing like old times, as Kurt and Rachel remained slushy-free.

"Youwant us to stay...and hang out...with the three of you," said Rachel, as if she hadn't finished processing the reality of what Santana was asking, then she added suspiciously,"...to what end?"

"Are you feeling alright?" asked Kurt, mildly concerned.

"Can't I just want to spend more time with my friends, without an ulterior motive?" asked Santana.

Kurt and Rachel shared a look, then said in unison, "No."

Despite Santana's protests, Kurt and Rachel left for class; leaving Quinn, Santana and Brittany alone together. There was an uncomfortably long silence following their departure. Quinn tried to send Santana meaningful glances, as if to say, 'this is the moment,' but Santana refused to make eye contact with anyone. The silence was broken by Brittany.

"So, this is great," said Brittany with a smile, "just the three of us, I can't remember the last time it was just us, all together."

"Yeah," said Quinn as she moved to sit next to Brittany on the couch, "Speaking of, now that we're alone, we have something we have to tell you Britt." Quinn looked at Brittany purposefully. Brittany looked puzzled, she looked to Santana for confirmation. Santana crossed her arms, leaning against a support beam, and nodded while looking at Brittany. Brittany couldn't decipher what Santana's expression meant, but she really did not like where this was going.

"Is this an intervention?" asked Brittany, "because I've given up predicting the end of the world. It's just not a cost effective hobby."

"No, it's nothing like that," said Quinn shaking her head with a bit of a smile, "It's about Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day?" asked Brittany, completely caught off guard.

"Yes. Valentine's Day. ...Oh, god, okay I'm just going to come right out and say it," answered Quinn. She had not fully anticipated how difficult it was going to be to break the news.

"That night, at the hotel, Santana and I slept together."

Brittany's reaction was a bit underwhelming. She just sat there, unable to respond.

Internally, her mind was going into overdrive. It was like a bomb exploded. 'Santana and Quinn? Quinn and Santana? Why would they...? How could this happen? It's Quinn...and Santana.' It was like the information was belligerently re-attacking her mind over and over again, because she refused to process it. Then she started imagining it in her mind's eye, and after that, she couldn't un-see it. Her mind became a loop of Santana and Quinn hooking up in a hotel room, and she couldn't do anything to erase the image of it.

"You...and...you...had...at the hotel," said Brittany, inhaling and exhaling slowly to avoid hyperventilating.

"Brittany, it wasn't-" Santana began, but was unceremoniously interrupted.

Brittany's body had compensated for her mind's inability to respond by vomiting directly in Rachel's purse.

"Oh my god! Are you alright?" asked Santana, totally unprepared for this kind of response,"I'll go get a washcloth...or a toothbrush...or a moist towelette...I'll be right back," she said as she bolted for the bathroom. Quinn stayed next to Brittany, rubbing her back, trying to soothe her.

Santana came back and they took care of the vomit situation. Throwing away the purse and cleaning up Brittany. Santana remarked, "At least we never have to tell Berry the truth about that god awful purse."

Once everything was cleared up, Brittany spoke, "So, you two. That's...I really was not expecting that. But, I mean, it's fine. You were both single, so...I guess, I'm glad you told me, rather than hearing it through the grapevine. You're not still- together, right?" She said the word 'together' as if it put a bad taste in her mouth.

"No. No, god no, never," said Quinn shaking her head emphatically.

"Excuse me? Please, _you _should be so lucky," said Santana. Quinn shot her a look, "But that's not what's important here," finished Santana lamely.

"It's alright if you're still upset, we'd understand," said Quinn.

"Yeah Britt, I know if the situation was reversed, I'd want-" Santana was interrupted by Brittany for a second time.

"No. It's cool. Bros before Hoes, right?" said Brittany.

"Wait, who are the Hoes and who are the Bros in this scenario..." asked Santana, trying to puzzle it out.

"Well...actually, I'm not sure, but let's just put it behind us. And never speak of it, ever, ever again." said Brittany.

"I think that's a great idea," said Santana, relieved. "Oh shit! It's already seven? I have to be at the bar in twenty minutes," she said, scrambling to get ready for work. "I'm glad this went so well...projectile vomiting... aside," said Santana, "I'll see you both later." She pulled on her coat and was out the door, leaving Brittany and Quinn alone together in the apartment.

"I just want to say, Britt, how glad I am that we've evolved so much that we can just honestly talk about stuff like this and stay best friends." said Quinn smiling. Brittany walked over to her. She looked Quinn straight in the eyes.

Then Brittany slapped Quinn clean across the face, as hard as she possibly could, so Quinn's head fully twisted in the same direction. The sound of the smack reverberated around the empty loft.

"I can't believe you could still call yourself my friend," she spat.

* * *

"You just hit me. In the face," said Quinn, holding her cheek, completely shocked, "What happened to 'stop the violence'?"

"What happened to you _not_ sleeping with Santana?" asked Brittany. "Wait," she paused, realization dawning on her, "Now it all makes sense."

"_What_ all makes sense?" asked Quinn.

"This has been going on since high school. Hasn't it?" accused Brittany.

"That's ridiculous. Of course it hasn't." said Quinn flatly.

"Hasn't it? Hasn't it all been leading up to this? Your head cheerio rivalry, the weird physical-violence-foreplay, you constantly staring at Santana's ass, that Senior Prom duet. I saw those glances. The list goes on." said Brittany, as though she had just proved a conspiracy.

"That's insane Brittany. You're crazy. You're literally a crazy person right now." said Quinn.

"And Santana's always staring at your boobs," continued Brittany, ignoring Quinn.

"Santana stares at everyone's boobs, even Finn's" said Quinn, "And there was never anything going on between us in high school."

"And now? Are you in love with her?" demanded Brittany.

"No. How can you even ask that? We're friends and that's all." said Quinn.

"Then why would you do this to me?" asked Brittany.

"Do what to you Brittany?" asked Quinn, "As far I'm concerned, this shouldn't really affect you that much. You moved on. Plus, you didn't even speak to us at the wedding. It didn't really feel like our friendship meant all that much to you."

Brittany glanced away guiltily. "I know. I wanted to, but it was just, it was uncomfortable. So, I avoided it."

"Why didn't you just leave?"

"I couldn't..."

**{Meanwhile in the hallway}**

"Can you hear anything?" whispered Rachel, ear pressed against the front door.

"Apparently Quinn and Santana had sex..." said Kurt, stunned.

"With who?" asked Rachel.

"With _each other_."

"What? I knew it. I knew Quinn always had a crush on me." said Rachel, shaking her head. Kurt just rolled his eyes.


	8. Chapter 7: Pt 2

"Why didn't you just leave?"

"I couldn't, I mean, I didn't know when the next time I'd see Santana would be. I couldn't just leave, knowing that she was there. But at the same time, the week before, I thought we were saying our real, final goodbye. I was trying to let go of her completely, And then, bam, seven days later, she's back in Lima. It's hard to let go of something that seems like it's always just within your reach. So I did what I could to keep my distance. I dodged her, and she dodged me. Nothing had changed. We were in the same room, but we were still worlds away from each other," said Brittany.

Quinn looked skeptical,"Come on Brittany, I know things were messed up between you and Santana, but we've all always been friends first, no matter what, and you just ignored us. You can dress it up all you like, but that's what happened."

Brittany nodded, "I _am_ sorry for avoiding you on purpose, that was shitty," She looked remorseful, then shook her head, remembering her anger, "I'm still pissed at you, don't think you can use your Fabray powers of manipulation on me. You hurt me much worse than I hurt you."

"Are you kidding? Remember who your date was at the wedding? My ex-boyfriend?" said Quinn, crafting her counter-argument carefully in her head.

"That is completely different."

"How?"

"You were never in love with him and I never had sex with him," said Brittany impatiently.

Quinn was taken aback, "Really?" She just stood there, very confused. "But you have sex with everyone, it's your thing."

"Well, people change, and I wanted to take things slow. Plus my bed post was running out of notch-space." explained Brittany, shrugging.

"I get taking things slow, but that's like, at a glacial pace. Especially for you two. I mean I think he proposed to me a week into our relationship," said Quinn.

"He does propose to everyone..." said Brittany thoughtfully, "I'm starting to think he's secretly a moron."

"You mean Mormon," corrected Quinn, Brittany just gave her a dubious look.

"So, how long did it take until you got a ring?" asked Quinn, jokingly.

"Just under a month," answered Brittany. "So you still hold the record for fastest proposal," she continued, in deadpan.

They both tried to contain themselves, but began laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

After the giggles subsided, Brittany said, "You know, if someone had asked me how I'd thought the next year of my life would go. I'd never have come up with this. How did we get here, Q?"

Quinn mentally retraced her year: from having an affair with her professor at Yale to her one night stand with Santana. Not to mention all the slaps in between, which she both received and dished out.

"I have no idea, Britt," said Quinn, "At least we still have time to change, and get ourselves to where we want to be. There's actually a quote that I think applies here, 'Nature does not require that we be perfect, it requires only that we grow, and we can do this as well from a mistake as from a success'."

"Wow Quinn," said Brittany,"Who knew college would turn you into an enormous nerd."

"Oh, shut up," said Quinn, feigning annoyance, "I really am sorry for what happened. I never meant to betray our friendship."

"It's okay," started Brittany, then she stopped herself, "Well, in all honesty, it's not. But I think with some time, it could be."

"Thank you. That really does mean a lot. I hope we can move on from this."

**{Back in the hallway}**

"Ugh, I can't hear anything anymore, now that they've stopped shouting," said Rachel, ear pressed to the door.

"I think they made up..." said Kurt, a little disappointed that the melodrama being played out in his living room was over.

"I guess we should go in," said Rachel, equally bummed.

"Let's wait it out, there could still be more." said Kurt, not ready to give up.

**{Back in the loft}**

"Do you hear something?" asked Brittany, in a low voice while motioning to the door. Quinn nodded. They walked towards the door and Brittany pulled it open. Kurt and Rachel, who had still been leaning against the front door, came tumbling into the apartment.

"Could you believe we both forgot our keys?" asked Rachel, as she and Kurt got up from the floor. Brittany and Quinn gave them both disapproving looks.

"Really?" said Quinn, "That's what you're going with?"

"Fine, but there was a lesbian love triangle face-off going on in our apartment, what did you expect?" asked Rachel. Brittany nodded thoughtfully, as if considering Rachel's point.

"You know what I think," said Kurt, "I think we could all use a drink."

And the shit show commenced.


	9. Chapter 7: Pt 3

"We should have a toast." said Kurt, after pouring everyone a glass of wine.

"How about: to my evolution into an independent, full-grown career woman?" suggested Rachel. Everyone ignored her.

"So, I was gonna wait until we were all together, but I do have some toast-worthy news!" said Quinn, "I've officially enrolled at Columbia. I start in the fall!"

"No way!" said Brittany.

"That's amazing news, Quinn" said Rachel.

"I'll drink to that," said Kurt.

"When are you moving in?" asked Rachel.

"Actually, thanks to my mother's massive divorce settlement and the fact that she's entered the cougar phase of her mid-life crisis, she's offered to put me up for the summer, I just need to find an apartment and I can move here by June." said Quinn, beaming.

"Yes! Now we can hang out all the time" exclaimed Rachel. Quinn smiled, trying to mask her reservations. She and Rachel had become good friends, but she preferred Rachel in small doses.

"Wow, I guess we're all slowly finding our way to New York," said Kurt.

"Right! Brittany, how did your applications come along?" asked Rachel.

"I sent the last of them all out this morning, luckily a lot of the performing arts schools have rolling application deadlines, so I should hear back by July." said Brittany.

"Wait, you're applying to schools in New York? " asked Quinn, "How am I just hearing about this?"

"Well, I've been keeping it on the down low. I wasn't even sure about it. But spending this week in New York clinched it. So, I sent out as many applications as possible, thank god I have my motocross prize money, It was _expensive_." said Brittany.

"That's great, Britt. Then we'll all be here," said Quinn, smiling.

"Well, I have to get in somewhere first," said Brittany. She was honestly nervous about that. Brittany had faith in her artistic ability, but she had never been successful when it came to the traditional education system. Performing Arts schools looked for a mix of both talent and academic performance, so she was hopeful her extracurricular involvement would overshadow any of her academic weaknesses. She was mostly afraid she'd be told she wasn't good enough, that she didn't make the cut, once again.

"You'll have your pick of schools," said Kurt, full of belief, but also brushing past Brittany's anxiety, "Now, let's have a toast, to the fab five of Lima, reuniting in New York Ci-tay!" They clinked glasses and drank.

A few glasses of wine had quickly escalated into an unofficial competition of who could shoot the most tequila. This of course led to several impromptu musical performances and some drunken revelations.

**- Two handles of tequila into the evening**

"Maybe I should just go gay," said Rachel.

"_What?_ What on earth are you talking about Rachel?" asked Kurt.

"Everyone's done it. First you, then Santana and Brittany, and now Quinn too! I need an edge, Kurt. We're in New York, plucky Jewish girls aren't exactly a minority. Think of all the drama and emotional pain of my path to self acceptance as a gay woman. I could improve myself as a performer. Plus, think of all the perks. No pregnancy scares, you can wear each other's clothes... I mean you're basically doubling your wardrobe by getting into a relationship... and I would finally have an 'in' with the power lesbians of NYADA...this is a great idea," Rachel nodded to herself.  
"That is _the_ most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," said Kurt, "And that's saying something."

"Yeah, you're already the gayest of us all," chimed in Brittany, "You live for Broadway, you have two gay dads, you made out with _Blaine_, you dated the gayest straight man in the history of the world, and I have walked in on you and Quinn in the girl's bathroom, talk about subtext..."

"Brittany..." started Quinn.

"What? you can't patch on the straight label no more Lucy Q, you're officially in the sexuality gray area...or should I say _gay_ area," Brittany laughed until she snorted, clearly showing the signs of having lowered her inhibitions. Then she started to look severely bummed out, having reminded herself of what went on between Quinn and Santana. This did not go unnoticed by Quinn.

"Hey, I'm really, really sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you," said Quinn, sloppily.

"Anything?" asked Brittany.

"Name it," said Quinn.

"You have to...stop eating bacon for one month," said Brittany, smirking, "Then I'll know how committed you are to this friendship."

"Come on Brittany...be serious," said Quinn, "a whole month?"

"You said anything," answered Brittany in a sing-song voice, back to enjoying herself.

Quinn gave her a look of complete despair, then glumly replied, "One month, no bacon."

"Or bacon-flavored products," Brittany responded.

They shook on it, and noticed Rachel was haphazardly throwing pillows off of the couch. "Has anyone seen my purse?" asked Rachel, perplexed. Quinn and Brittany made eye contact and uncontrollable laughter followed.

* * *

Santana got home around 3 AM, thankful to escape the drunks at the bar. That was, until she walked into her apartment, where everyone was also completely trashed. Rachel was quasi-passed out on the couch, Kurt and Quinn were both sprawled out on top of the dining table slurringly debating the merits of 'leaning in', and Brittany was no longer in the living room/front hall area.

"Oh my god... Berry are you wearing my boots?" asked Santana, bordering on pissed.

"Santana! I've decided to become a lesbian," said Rachel, with a serious look, straightening up from lying on the couch.

"That's great Rachel," said Santana tiredly, she had gotten used to Rachel's drunken pronouncements by now and knew nothing she said should be taken seriously. "I'll get you your very own softball jersey, so everyone will know you've officially joined the team. Come on, let's get you to bed," Santana helped Rachel up and started moving her to her bedroom.

"Really!? See Kurt, I'm official, who's ridiculous now?" yelled Rachel over her shoulder, putting her arm around Santana.

"Yeah, tomorrow we'll fit you with some birkenstocks," said Santana with false excitement, halfway between amused and annoyed with drunk Rachel.

"Ooh, that's a setback I didn't think of..." said Rachel, as they reached her bed.

"Are you going to be alright, or should I get the bucket?" asked Santana as Rachel sat on her bed.

"Yeah, I'm good...I'm nice now...I'm nice," said Rachel, a little dazed, clearly about to experience the worst hangover of her life tomorrow.

"Do you know where Brittany is?" asked Santana.

"Um, fire escape, I think...she said something about singing birds...maybe she wanted to be near the pigeons..." said Rachel, about to pass out. Santana left the room and headed for the fire escape.

She climbed out to the fire escape where she saw Brittany sitting on the floor with her legs hanging off the edge, in between the bars in the railing. Santana sat down next to her. Brittany had a pretty high alcohol tolerance and she was now slowly regaining her status as a functional human being.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?" asked Santana, "It's freezing."

"I just wanted to be alone for a bit. It got a little crazy in there," said Brittany.

"Yeah, why _is_ everyone shitfaced?" asked Santana.

"Long answer? Rachel's insecure about her path to stardom, although she does overcompensate wonderfully with her massive ego. Kurt is torn between fashion and Broadway and feels pressured to definitively choose his career path soon. And Quinn...well she has like a million problems, but my guess is she transferred to Columbia because Beth and Shelby live here now, and she wants to be close to her daughter, but she's afraid she's made too many past mistakes to become an important part of Beth's life." explained Brittany, keeping her eyes on the horizon, "Short answer: it's Friday and drinking is fun."

Santana nodded, always impressed with Brittany's keen understanding of the people around her, "What about you?"

Brittany turned to face Santana, "I think it's best for me not to answer that," she said, facing front again and trying to maintain expressionless. Santana wasn't sure how to respond and a short silence fell.

"Did you like her back in high school?" asked Brittany bluntly. She was sobering up, but was still very, very drunk.

"Who? Quinn?" asked Santana caught off guard by the question. Brittany nodded in response.

"No, of course not, and I don't _like_ her now," said Santana shaking her head. Brittany breathed a sigh of relief.

"Where is that even coming from? I thought you were fine with what happened," said Santana curiously. Brittany had never been the jealous type, which slightly irked a small, selfish part of Santana, who, one the other hand, had always been very protective of her relationship with Brittany.

"I lied," said Brittany, "I'm not fine. You and Quinn hooking up is _pretty much_ nightmare scenario number one. It's _gross_."

"Well, I can promise it was a one time event," said Santana, "I'm done hooking up with friends. It's not worth it in the end."

"Is that where we are? " asked Brittany. Santana gave her a puzzled look.

"The end," Brittany clarified. She needed to know, although she was afraid of the answer, if Santana had truly let go.

Santana thought about it for a minute, looking at the city sprawled out in front of them. Then she responded, "We're not even twenty yet, Britt. We're just at the beginning." They looked at each other for a while. It was a vague response, but it was all Brittany needed to strengthen her resolve. She was going to fight for Santana, come hell or high water.

"Come on, it's almost 3:30, we should get some sleep," said Santana, breaking eye contact and standing up.

Santana held out her hands and Brittany took them to help pull herself up. When they got back inside, Quinn was asleep, face planted on the couch and Kurt had managed to get himself to his bed.

"I guess, we'll have to sleep together..." said Santana.

"What?" asked Brittany, unsure of what she had heard.

"In the same bed. Unless one of us sleeps on the floor," answered Santana.

"Oh. No, we can sleep together, unless you'd prefer..." started Brittany.

"No, it'll be like old times," said Santana, Brittany gave her a questioning look.

"I meant, like cheerios sleepovers." Santana explained, visibly flustered, realizing what that must have sounded like.

* * *

Brittany found the experience of lying in bed next to Santana, post-break-up, extremely peculiar. It felt exactly the opposite of how it used to: it was uncomfortable and they were trying to put as much distance between each other as possible.

Before succumbing to extreme tiredness, Brittany glanced over to Santana, "Santana?"

Santana didn't respond, presumably having already fallen asleep.

"I'm glad you don't like Quinn, because I still _like _you," whispered Brittany, as she fell asleep next to the girl of her dreams.


	10. Chapter 8

"This is the worst anyone has ever felt," said Rachel, head resting on the table.

"Stop yelling," mumbled Quinn from across the room. She was still lying on the living room couch.

"I am never drinking again," said Kurt, pouring himself some coffee.

* * *

When Santana woke, she was lying on her side and felt the sensation of an arm around her. It was a nice feeling, she smiled, thankful Hummel had given her a girlfriend pillow. It certainly made her feel less alone during her first few months in the city.

Then, her sleep addled brain started actually working and she realized it was a real human arm, attached to a real human girl, that was draped over her. She immediately remembered the events of last night, and how she and Brittany had shared a bed due to the circumstances. Although, when she fell asleep, they had been as far apart as possible without one of them falling of the edge of the bed. Now, they were as close as they could be without actually fusing together. They had sleep-snuggled, naturally taking their old positions. Big spoon: Brittany. Little spoon: Santana. Santana's hands were firmly holding Brittany's arm to her stomach and their legs were slightly entangled.

Santana closed her eyes and pretended. Pretended that the past year hadn't happened. That she and Brittany escaped Lima together, hand in hand, exactly according to plan. She pretended that they had followed their dreams to New York to start their lives in the big city, far away from a small minded town in Ohio. She pretended that this was their crappy first apartment and it was just another typical morning with them waking up next to together.

But that's not what happened. Brittany had lied. She had kept being held back a secret until the last possible moment. Santana had never felt more betrayed. She never thought Brittany would be one to keep secrets. They didn't do that, they didn't keep secrets, at least not from each other. Brittany knew everything about Santana, sometimes before Santana knew herself. Brittany keeping something so monumentally huge from her made Santana feel like the rug had been ripped from under her. It was the first tug, unraveling the thread of their trust.

Santana had thought they were different. That they wouldn't succumb to the usual pitfalls of teenage love. But that changed everything. She left for college and they were separated. During September, she was living from phone call to phone call. Impatiently waiting for class or cheer practice to end so she could call Brittany. Brittany sent her letter sized text messages if they hadn't communicated for longer than six hours. They were devoted and miserable. By October, it was clear it wasn't working. They both felt alone, constantly missing the other person, and as a result, missing what was happening around them. They were detached from what was around them because their hearts were someplace else entirely. Ironically, they broke up because of how much they wanted to be together. Santana viewed it as cutting off the infected limb, protecting the body from complete destruction. She thought she was preserving the integrity of their relationship before the strain of long distance caused one of them to do something they would regret. She never thought it would be permanent, just a small break for the time that they had to live apart.

But, by November Brittany had moved on with someone else and when Santana found out, she was crushed. She knew she didn't have the right to feel that way, but there it was. So, she came up with a half-baked plan and showed up in Lima once more. She wasn't even sure what she wanted the outcome of her trip to be. She just needed them to stop being a couple. Looking back, she was relieved things worked out the way they did. She couldn't imagine signing her soul away to Sue Sylvester and chaining herself to WMHS for the rest of her days. New York was where she was meant to be. Begrudgingly, she admitted to herself that Brittany was right, as usual, to tell her to go.

After that, Santana was a single girl, dating random, faceless women, with nothing serious emerging, and Brittany was just her best friend, who was dating someone she was, apparently, in love with. That was the worst part. Brittany had felt left behind by Santana in the fall. Then Santana felt left behind by Brittany in the winter. She couldn't understand it. She couldn't imagine being in a relationship with anyone but Brittany. She felt betrayed. She thought their relationship would be the most important one of her life. She couldn't help but feel that, to Brittany, it was just one of many loves. Not different, not special. Just another story, another tally on her list of broken hearts. Her trust in Brittany had gone from frayed to threadbare.

Now, Santana didn't know what to feel. Brittany was back and she said they belonged together. Santana was so tempted to slide back into their old relationship, but things _had_ changed. They couldn't go back, and Santana needed to move forward.

Santana carefully extracted herself from Brittany's arms. Not that it would have mattered. After a night of drinking Brittany slept like a dead person. Almost nothing could wake her up. It bordered on creepy.

Santana entered the kitchen/dining room area to see Kurt, Rachel, and Quinn at the table, looking extremely hungover and droopy.

"Well, you all look like shit," said Santana, "What happened to your pledge to 'Drink Responsibly'?"

"Hey, we weren't the one who ended up in bed with her ex," mumbled Kurt, head resting on the table.

"How did you-"

"We have drapes separating our rooms, Santana, not walls," explained Kurt, "One well placed draft, and we can see everything."

"Well nothing happened. There just weren't enough beds left after the three of you passed out. We were at opposite sides of the bed when we went to sleep. I don't even know how we ended up..."

"Ohhh, you cuddled in your sleep," said Rachel, "You two looked so cute!"

"No. I do not sleep-cuddle," said Santana, pointing at Rachel, "You tell no one of this. Or I swear I will make you wish your bio-mom had never been artificially inseminated."

"What?" said Quinn, not registering much of what was going on around her.

"Good Morning," yawned Brittany cheerfully as she walked into the dining room and sat down at the table. Everyone else grumbled a 'good morning' and went back to trying to keep their heads from exploding. Since Kurt, Rachel and Quinn were barely functional, Santana started making breakfast for the group. Brittany quickly got up to help.

"Quinn, we only have one package of bacon, I assume that will suffice?" asked Santana.

"Actually, no," said Quinn, dramatically, "I have decided to go one month bacon-free."

"Why?" asked Santana, confused by the randomness of the declaration.

"I've made a gentle-women's agreement," said Quinn ambiguously. Brittany, who was behind Santana, beating eggs, smiled.

"Okay..._weirdo_," said Santana, re-focusing on making breakfast.

* * *

After everyone ate, they felt considerably better. With the possible exception of Quinn, who was eyeing the left over bacon strips, with a little too much desire.

Suddenly "Pac-Man Fever" started playing. Brittany grabbed her phone off of the table and read the display: ***Susan Pierce calling***

She answered the call.

"Hey mom," said Brittany brightly.

"Hey cupcake, is everything alright with you?"

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

"I just. I got a voice message from you last night, it was a little troubling."

"Really? I didn't call you..."

"I don't think it's the kind of message you would remember making, if you catch my meaning."

"Oh. oh my god! I'm so sorry mom. What did I say?" said Brittany, mortified.

"Well, you..actually I can send it to you. I think you should hear it first hand."

"Sure, it wasn't anything bad right? Because I didn't mean it, I don't even remember making the call, I'm really sorry."

"No, there's nothing to apologize for. I just think you need to hear it. I'm here if you need me. I love you."

"Okay, thanks Mom, Love you too," said Brittany, hanging up.

"What was that about?" asked Santana.

"I drunk dialed my mom last night. She's sending me the message," Brittany responded.

"What did you say?" asked Santana.

"I can't remember, I don't even remember calling," said Brittany.

Brittany's phone buzzed the display read: ***New Audio Message from Susan Pierce***

"Play it!" said Quinn, very curious, the others nodded.

Brittany played the message on speaker:

"Heeeeey, it's me. I just want to tell you I love you, and I miss you, a lot and all of the time. I just want things to go back to how they used to be. It's hard living on my own. I thought you'd always be there, but I guess this is part of growing up, growing apart from the people you love. But that's crap, I don't want to grow apart. I just want it to be like before...You know what I really miss? I miss when you would sing to me. It always made me feel so loved. I wish I could sing to you in that way, to show how much you mean to me and how much I appreciate you, but Ke$ha really doesn't have any songs for that. If I had the voice for it, I'd sing you all of the best songs. Yep, every day a new song. ...So... in conclusion...I miss you and you're still really hot. I have to go, Q's karoake-ing "Mickey" and she needs me..."

"Well, that was sweet of black-out-drunk you, a little weird towards the end, but sweet," said Kurt.

"Yes, I didn't realize you were having such a difficult time with the transition from being at home to being on your own, Brittany," concurred Rachel.

"You call your mom hot?" asked Quinn, brow wrinkled.

"She's a pretty lady," shrugged Brittany, seemingly unaffected.

Santana stayed quiet. She knew something the others didn't: Brittany's mom was completely tone deaf. She also knew that 'Susan' came right after 'Santana' in Brittany's contact list. Santana once asked Brittany why she had her parents under their actual names in her contacts. She responded by saying 'Mom' and 'Dad' weren't their names, they were their titles. It was the same as she didn't put Ashley in under 'Sister' or Santana under 'Girlfriend.'

Brittany glanced, uncertainly, over at Santana. They held eye contact until Santana looked away, now torn more than ever.


	11. Chapter 9

Later that afternoon, they were all hanging out in the living room watching TV. Everyone was smushed together on the couch, except Santana, who was sitting in the chair she'd brought in from the street. When Brittany got up to the bathroom, Rachel and Kurt seized the opportunity to talk to Santana.

"Santana, what is going on between you and Brittany?" asked Rachel.

"Yeah, I haven't seen that many emotionally charged glances since, well, since you two during junior year," chimed in Kurt.

"Look, I know you two go sniffing around for drama like it's crack cocaine, but there's nothing gossip worthy here." said Santana, trying to put them off.

"Exactly," said Quinn, "And why should there be? Brittany's proven she's a disloyal flake and Santana shouldn't waste her time with her anymore, not now that she can date some legitimate lesbians. Frankly I'm surprised you two lasted for as long as you did. I mean, remember when Brittany said she didn't love you and that you were just a suitable replacement for Puckerman?"

"Okay, that was me," said Santana, completely confused by Quinn's sudden declaration.

"Brittany did cheat on you with Artie, though," said Kurt.

"Actually it was the other way around..." responded Santana.

"Well, she still dumped you for Sam after a few weeks long distance," Rachel interjected.

"I'm the one who broke up with her," said Santana.

"But she just moved right on, right? Didn't waste any time at all," said Quinn.

"No, the next time we saw each other she tried to get back together with...Okay, okay, I get it," said Santana, throwing her hands up as if surrendering, "You can stop with the coordinated reverse psychology. Seriously, it's like you rehearsed that."

"Just a few quick run-throughs..." said Rachel, earning a WTF glance from Santana.

"We just think you two are going through a lot of unnecessary pain, and if you just talked to Brittany instead of avoiding..." said Quinn, before Santana interrupted her, standing up, "Look, I know you're trying be helpful, in a boundary-less, totally invasive kind of way, but back off. I don't bud into your relationships."

"You literally called Finn in from Lima to beat up Brody," said Rachel.

"And you told Adam about my dream wedding duet with Blaine," added Kurt.

"And you've hooked up with all three of my ex-boyfriends, usually _while_ I was dating them," said Quinn.

"Right, so you know how irritating it is to have people meddle in your business," said Santana, pretending that she still had a shred of credibility and promptly ignoring the exasperated looks she was receiving.  
"Jesus, what is taking Brittany so long in the bathroom..." said Santana, wanting this confrontation to end.

"Someone say my name?" Brittany asked as she exited the bathroom and made her way to the living room.

"Yes," said Rachel, before Santana could respond, "Santana was just...going to buy some groceries. It's her week to do the food shopping, and she was wondering if you would like to join her." Santana glared at Rachel, trying to convey three things: that she was not impressed by this attempt to get Brittany and her alone together, that she knew Rachel was the one on grocery duty this week, and that payback would, indeed, be a bitch.

"Sure, I'll go with you, just let me grab my bag," said Brittany, "It's so weird to be able to buy food other than the ingredients for Sue Sylvester's master cleanse. I mean, we should totally still get maple syrup, cayenne peppers, and lemons, but I'm thinking it's a hard pass on the ipecac and sand."

Rachel and Kurt looked at each other, a tad mortified.

* * *

Later at Market Basket

"So, what did the four of you do last night, besides drinking, before I got back?" asked Santana, reaching for some carrots.

"I mostly have no idea. I have this weird memory of Rachel singing a love ballad to me, but that must be wrong..." said Brittany.

"No, that probably happened. A few weeks ago, at Callbacks, Berry got hammered and dedicated a performance of 'Clique' to her, 'roomates-slash-besties: Kurt _Homosexual_ and Santana _Lesbian_.' It was actually pretty touching, I mean, it was mostly deeply inappropriate and uncomfortable, but, yeah, after a few drinks, Man-Hands will sing, or rap, anything to anyone," replied Santana.

Brittany laughed, "That sounds awful...but I'd definitely like to hear more about the adventures of Kurt Homosexual and Santana Lesbian. It sounds like you two are gay superheroes, fighting crime in a flamboyant and immaculately styled manner."

"Isn't the term 'gay superhero' a little redundant? What gives us the extra gay edge?" asked Santana, playfully.

"Well, your costumes would have a rainbow color scheme and you'd have sex with the same sex. ...Oh, and one of your powers is actual, working gaydar," said Brittany, smiling.

"I could totally rock spandex," said Santana, as if considering the feasibility of the idea.

"Of course," agreed Brittany. She paused, seeming to struggle with herself, then she said, "Santana. I'm leaving tomorrow and I think we still have a lot to talk about."

Santana sighed, "I know. That's what I've been trying to avoid."

"Can't we just start over? Everything's different now. I'm not stuck in Lima anymore and it looks like we'll finally share the same zip code again."

"It's more complicated than that," said Santana.

"Why? Because I was dating somebody?" asked Brittany, skeptical.

"_Because_...because I don't think I trust you anymore." said Santana.

"You don't trust me anymore?" asked Brittany, caught off guard, "Why not?"

"Why not? _Why not?_ Why didn't you tell me?!" exclaimed Santana, exasperated, finally asking the question she had been holding in for year.

"Tell you what?" asked Brittany.

"That you weren't passing senior year! Why was I the last to know? I thought we were rock solid and then you dropped that bomb like it was _nothing_."

"Santana-"

"How could you! You can't expect me to trust you anymore. I _never_ thought you'd keep secrets from me. You never even _hinted_ that you were having problems in school. Maybe I could have tried to help you, or something. I deserved to know. How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't _tell_ anyone. Technically, you were the first to know. At beginning of the year they gave me a warning letter, telling me the minimum grades I'd have to get in my classes to graduate, because my GPA was in the 'at risk' range. Then, I bombed midterms and everything was too much to handle after that. Homework and studying became overwhelming. I felt like every little assignment was going to determine my ability to graduate. Plus, I had to try to learn all of the material I didn't understand from the beginning of the year and keep up with all of my extra-curriculars. It was just one giant never-ending mess. I didn't tell you because I didn't _want_ to tell you. I used the time we spent together as an escape. I didn't have to think about school or failing when you were around. I could just relax. Get away from everything. I know it was wrong, but I used you as a kind of stress relief. You were my happy place."

Brittany stopped for a moment, looking away and crossing her arms. She swallowed and steeled herself to continue, "I was afraid, too. I was afraid that if you knew I was failing, that I couldn't graduate high school. That it would be proof. Indisputable proof that I really am as stupid as everyone else thinks. Then, you'd dump me, leave Lima, and start dating some smart college girl who, like, listens to NPR and reads non-fiction. It was easier not to tell you, so we'd still have a few more happy months together. It made it much less real, when you didn't know."

"Brittany, I know how smart you are. Nothing William McKinley High School has to say about your intelligence interests me. They were teaching us the state capitals our Senior year. And I firmly believe that I could have a more in-depth conversation in Spanish with the Taco Bell Chihuahua than Mr. Shue. They're not exactly winning awards for educating excellence over there. If you ask me, high school failed _you_, not the other way around. You're not a brainless information regurgitation machine, which is all they really want in a student. You _do_ things. You can turn Berry's awful taste in animal sweaters into the next big trend in fashion, you win statewide motocross championships, you strategize successful presidential campaigns, you produce, write and star in your own web series. You're the most accomplished person to ever attend that school. Nothing and no one could make me doubt your brilliance."

"Thank you, Santana," said Brittany, her voice thick with emotion. It was everything she needed: to have Santana believe in her, even when she felt like she didn't deserve it.

"I wish you would have told me," said Santana, visibly hurt. Suddenly she noticed that they had drawn the attention of the other shoppers: namely, an older, homeless-looking gentlemen and a lady with a couple of kids who was now eating oreos straight out of the package and watching intently. It was a little disturbing. Composing herself, she continued, "Maybe we should continue this somewhere else...You can blame Berry's scheming for the supermarket setting, she was trying to get us alone together, and avoid doing her chores."

"Oh," said Brittany, a little bummed the invitation hadn't really come from Santana, "You know I feel a little betrayed, I thought Rachel and I had made progress this week. I thought we found a common thread."

"And what was that?" asked Santana, who could not think of any two people more different than Brittany and Rachel.

" Well, I once dated a Wes Brody, remember? It was during Coach's Madonna obsession, and then she said she dated a Brody _Wes_ton, I think that means something, like on a cosmic level. We're connected somehow. I mean the only thing that separates them is a 'ton', but a ton of what?" pondered Brittany.

"...probably a ton of sex, because Berry's Brody was a male prostitute whereas yours was a 7-year-old on your sister's soccer team...although he did have some mad game," answered Santana.

"That he did," agreed Brittany, nodding thoughtfully, "smoothest game of anyone I've ever dated."

"Hey, I've got game" said Santana, indignantly.

"Um, right. You just never used it on me because we were friends first. No one was trying to pick anyone up," said Brittany, hoping that would put the matter to rest.

"You don't think I have any game," said Santana, astounded, "I'll have you know my success to failure ratio on picking up women is pretty impressive."

"Honey, you don't need game. You're _that_ hot. Be proud of that," said Brittany reassuringly, "And exactly how many women was that?"

"Um, you know what, let's ditch the groceries. Oreo lady is starting to creep me out and I know somewhere we can talk, in private. Come on, let's go," said Santana, holding out her hand.


End file.
